


Letters

by ceeba



Series: Post Break-Up Fic [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Happy Ending, I swear too much so Dean swears too much - sorry!, Idiot boyfriends are idiots, M/M, Post-Break Up, There's a dog because everything is better with dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeba/pseuds/ceeba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt “i found your box of letters underneath my bed last night and because i’m a nosy motherfucker i decided to read them and it turns out they were all addressed to me and the last one was dated the day you moved out and i’m not quite sure why i thought this would be a good idea but here i am, standing on your doorstep, wondering why the fuck we’re not together anymore” from this post: http://thehalcyonclubwritingprompts.tumblr.com/post/132518177311/post-breakup-aus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> This is possibly the grossest, cheesiest thing I've ever written. Sorry...

Dean’s stupid mutt is full of energy – she always goes crazy after a bath, bouncing about like a lunatic. Dean was trying to get the house tidied before Sam arrives next week with his new girlfriend. He’s looking forward to teasing his brother mercilessly, but he also wants to make a good impression which includes not having his damn house look like a disaster zone with all his shit strewn everywhere. Tidying proves a lot more difficult when he has Dog Sammy bouncing around, insisting Dean throw a toy for her every ten seconds.

He’s been calling her Dog Sammy since he got her and of course that makes his brother Human Sammy. When they were kids, Sam had always complained about Dean calling him Sammy, claiming it was a better name for a dog than a human. So, naturally, when Dean eventually did get a dog he called her Sammy, too, just to piss Sam off. The fact that Dog Sammy is a female was just an added bonus.

Dog Sammy is wining at him and he peers into his bedroom to see what the fuss is about. She’s pushed her toy beyond her reach under his bed and he groans at her. “You’re a pain in my ass, you dumb dog,” he tells her fondly, scratching behind her ears before he bends down to find it. His hand comes back empty the first time he reaches, covered in dust. He winces and makes a mental note to clean under here too later. The second time he reaches underneath, his hand connects with something hard. He frowns, not remembering storing anything under there, and grabs at the offending item to pull it out from under the bed.

He frowns at the dark blue striped box in his hands. He’s definitely seen it somewhere before but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t belong to _him_ which must mean – oh.

It must be Cas’. He’s seen Cas put shit in this box time and time again but once, early in their relationship when Cas had first moved in, he’d asked Dean not to touch it. He left it out where Dean could see, had trusted Dean to resist the temptation of the forbidden, and Dean had left it alone for the three years Cas had been in this house. He’d totally forgotten about it, but Cas has been gone for coming up to five months now and surely if it was that important he would have taken it with him? He’d probably emptied it when he was packing and then accidentally kicked the box under the bed and forgotten about it. Dean figures there’s no harm in opening the box, just to double check its empty before he chucks it out or hides it back away where he’ll never come across it again because he still isn’t ready for this kind of reminder in his everyday life.

He ignores the way Dog Sammy is pawing at his leg impatiently, desperate to have her stupid chew toy back. He pats her head absently, trying to calm her down as he shifts so he’s sitting with his back against the bed, the box resting in his lap. He bites his lip, contemplating, trying to ignore the guilt twisting at his insides at the idea of going against Cas’ wishes and peeking into his private things. But it’s been so long since they’ve even talked and Dean is the nosiest motherfucker on the planet so, with no one there to stop him, he lifts the lid from the box and sets it aside. Sammy paws at it curiously before seemingly deciding it is as boring as Dean is being and she turns and stalks out of the room.

The box is full of – letters? Dean tilts his head – the hell was Cas writing to all this time? And, more importantly, why was he storing them in secret instead of sending them? He lifts a pile of them up, seeing a selection of things hiding underneath. Dean’s breath catches – _these_ he recognizes.

There are a couple of ticket stubs in there, one from the concert they’d met at, one from a drive through they’d gone to a couple of years ago. They’d sat on Baby’s hood and made out the whole time like a couple of teenagers, ignoring the snide looks and scoffs sent in their direction. Dean had never been as open with his affections and desires as he was that night. There’s a Vonnegut book in there, too. _Slapstick_. It was Cas’ favorite, though Dean didn’t understand why he’d pick it over the classics. Dean had given him a first edition copy once and he can’t help but be mildly offended that Cas had left it here instead of taking it with him. He guesses it’s probably something to do with the hand-written message Dean had added in the front pages – Cas was a sucker for writing personal notes in books when he gave them as gifts, a sign that he’d been thinking of someone when he read it. Dean begrudgingly admitted later that he saw the appeal. Dog Sammy’s old collar is stuffed in the box, too, the one they’d had to cling onto while Sammy had tried to chase a rabbit and slipped happily into the lake, determined to pull them both in there with her when they had tried to stop her getting too far. It was the stupidest moment but for some reason they had laughed for so long, Cas’ left foot soaked where he had fallen into the water and happy tears streaming down both of their faces. The stupid cheap collar had snapped before they’d managed to stop her and eventually they had just let her go, lying on the bank and waiting nearly an hour for her to get tired and come lolloping back over to them, tongue sticking happily out the side of her mouth. After that, they had invested in a much better quality collar and he’d had no idea that Cas had kept this shitty old one.

Dean hadn’t figured Cas was the kind of person to keep a box like this, full of stupid mementos of their relationship, but now he sees it it kind of makes sense. Cas was always a nostalgic bastard and, although he dialled it back for Dean’s sake, he was pretty sappy. It shouldn’t surprise Dean that he kept all this shit.

He puts the box back down and reaches for the envelopes, turning them over in his hands. He sucks in a breath when he sees _Dean Winchester_ written on the front of the top one in Cas’ familiar, neat handwriting. He checks the next and then the next, checks them all just in case, and every single one has his name on.

_Shit_.

He shouldn’t open them, he really shouldn’t. Cas has been writing him letters for, what, their whole relationship? And he specifically asked Dean not to look and –

And Cas has gone. He packed up all his shit and moved to the other side of the country for a job and he didn’t take Dean with him. Cas _left_ him, broke every promise he had ever made Dean in doing so, so why _shouldn’t_ Dean return the favor?

In the corner of each letter is a date, and the one on top of the pile is dated _Eleventh of March, 2015_. Dean shivers, he’ll probably remember that day for the rest of his life. That’s the day Cas packed his shit and got a fucking cab to the airport, wouldn’t even let Dean drive him. Dean puts that one aside to read at the end.

The first one he opens is dated _Ninth of July, 2011_ and Dean knows that date well, too. Dean opens it, taking care not to tear the envelope. He takes a steadying breath when he sees Cas’ handwriting spread out across the page. The letter is short and Dean reads it slowly, savoring it.

_Dean,_

_This is crazy, and I’ll never show you this because of how crazy it is. I met you three hours ago and I already know you’re going to be important to me, to my life. I don’t know you at all, not really, but it doesn’t feel that way._

_I don’t know why I’m writing this down. I guess I just want something to look back on in a few years’ time and be able to say that I knew right away. I knew that I would love you the night I met you._

_God, I hope I’m right._

_Yours,_

_Castiel._

Dean stares at it for a long time. Cas had never told him about this, about feeling that way on the very first night. Then again, Dean never told Cas, either. It’s hard not to think like that when you’re talking to somebody and it feels like they were designed just for you, like you were built to be in each other’s lives in some way.

He folds it in half again and puts in to the side, picking up a letter dated _Twenty-fifth of February, 2012._

_Dean,_

_I know people think we’re crazy because it’s only been six months, but they don’t know us like we do. I can’t wait for my things to be beside yours in your house. Our house._

_You’re it for me, I wonder if you know that. There is no “too soon” for me, not when it comes to you._

_I love you, and I am infinitely grateful that you know that, now._

_So completely yours, Dean Winchester,_

_Castiel._

And fuck, if that doesn’t sting. That day was far from perfect – they had bickered about where to put Cas’ shit and the fight had ended with Dean saying that maybe they should wait a bit and Cas accusing Dean of clearly not wanting him there. Neither of them had meant it, Dean knew that much, but he hadn’t realized that Cas had still been so sure about them even after how they had argued that day.

Dean shakes it off and flicks through the pile, picking a letter with _Twenty-ninth of April, 2014_ scrawled across the top of the envelope. The date doesn’t ring a bell and he’s curious to know what had happened that day to make Cas want to write about it.

_Dean,_

_I have loved you almost since the day I met you, Dean Winchester, but today I found out how it feels to hate you, too._

_You’re insufferable. You’re stubborn and you’re defensive and sometimes you say things just to hurt me. I know where it comes from, I know you do it because you’re scared and not because you think badly of me, but sometimes I wish you would stop and think how it might feel for me. You would do anything for me and I know that but it’s the smaller things that hurt._

_Yesterday we fought about something small and stupid, and what did you do? You got in your car and you drove away. You didn’t answer my calls or texts and I stayed up all night in our empty house, thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere. It wasn’t until Sam called me this afternoon saying you had told him you were on your way to California that I knew you were safe. California, Dean. Were you going to tell me? Were you just going to go and live with your brother because we had a fucking fight and not even tell me? Leave me here in_ your _childhood home? Really?_

_I hated you when Sam phoned to tell me, I don’t think I’d ever been angrier at anyone in my life. Now I’m mostly just mad that I’m worrying about you, wondering when or if you’re coming home. You hurt me today and all I want is for you to be here to make me feel better. I hate that._

_Something has to change. I need to change. If you come back, it won’t be the same. I need to know how to survive without you, know how to carry on if you ever do this to me again. I can’t be with you if it’s all that keeps me going, I know that much._

_But_ god _, Dean, I hope you come home to me, you bastard._

_Yours anyway,_

_Castiel._

And oh, yeah, Dean remembers now. He swipes at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. God, he had been such a fucking idiot. He’d just been aching and he’d needed Sam – _Human Sam_ – so badly and he hadn’t been able to think beyond it. It took him two days to get to Sam’s place in Palo Alto and he’d only stopped for a few hours to sleep restlessly in Baby. He’d been so caught up in the idea of Cas not thinking he was good enough that he hadn’t even stopped to think what it was like for Cas, being alone in a house he probably still considered to be Dean’s and not _theirs_. It was the worst thing he’d ever done and Cas had told him as much when he got back, giving him absolute hell. Not once had he threatened to leave, though, and that made it so much worse. There was no excusing it but Cas _had_ and Dean had never forgiven himself for it.

Dean puts that letter straight back into the envelope and hides it between the others, never wants to see it again. Cas had always been too good for him and he didn’t need any more reminders of that. He skips the rest of them, he doesn’t want to come across anything else like this. The most recent one, though, he can’t walk away from. If it gives any more insight into why Cas left then he has to know, has to see it. Dean doesn’t remember Cas having a moment to write anything down the day he’d left. He had run around the house picking up the last of his things as Dean had sat on the couch, head in his hands, pretending none of it was happening.

Cas had been a blur of movement while Dean sat stock-still and Dean remembers thinking how strange it must have looked, like one of those scenes in the movies where the character is standing motionless while the world rushes on without them.

He opens the envelope with shaky hands as Dog Sammy comes pottering back in, peering at him curiously. She seems to sense the mood, as she so often does, and comes to curl up by his side, her chin hooked over his thigh. He scratches her head gratefully and turns back to the letter.

_My Dean,_

_I don’t know what to say to you today, neither here nor in person. I’ve never seen this expression on your face before and I won’t ever forgive myself for putting it there._

_That time you run off to California without telling me, remember that? I told you it was the worst thing you could ever do to me, and now I’m doing it to you._

_I want you to come with me, Dean, more than anything. I want you to be packing with me, I want us to drive to San Francisco together, I want us to find somewhere to live_ together _. I can’t ask you, though, I just can’t. This is your home, you grew up in this house. Your mother lives on in these four walls and I would never, ever ask you to leave it, not for me. It isn’t that I’m scared you’ll say no, it’s that you might say yes._

_I couldn’t have you saying yes because you didn’t want me to go. I don’t want you going half way across the country just because I was. If you ever did something like that then I need it to be for you, not me. The thought of you resenting and hating me somewhere down the line is so much worse than us just having a clean break and being done with it._

_You haven’t told me otherwise, so I can only assume the thought of coming with me hasn’t crossed your mind. I won’t put the thought in your head to confuse this situation further, I need it to come from you._

_But please, Dean, please never doubt how much I love you, how much I want you with me. I have never doubted my feelings for you, not even at the worst of times. This job is so important and I know you would never ask me to turn it down for you, just as I would never ask you to give up your home for me. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let us be one of those couples who gives up their entire lives for each other because it isn’t healthy, we need to be able to live without the other. But god, Dean, I am so close to breaking that today. I can live without us, that’s important, but I don’t want to, not for a second._

_I hope you can forgive me one day. I hope you can understand why I didn’t ask you to come with me. I hope you can be happy and carry on being the best man I’ve ever known._

_I’m leaving this box behind because I can’t face looking at it. If you ever find it, don’t worry, I’m not mad that you opened it. You were so good to me, I know you haven’t ever looked until now. Thank you for that. I just wanted to keep a record of the important days, just in case._

_I just want to thank you. You gave me my best years and I will love you forever, I’m sure of that. My leaving has entirely nothing to do with how I feel about you and I hope you know that one day._

_Thank you, Dean._

_Yours always,_

_Cas._

Dean drops the letter as soon as he’s done, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them, wrapping his arms around his legs. Sammy wines beside him, nuzzling into his hip as he cries, sucking in choking breaths. If he had ever thought for even a second these past months that he was over Cas then he’s the worst liar in the world.

Of _course_ Dean thought Cas didn’t love him. Of course he thought the job in California was just an excuse to get out without having to say it out loud. Of fucking _course_ he would have asked to go, too, if he thought for one second that Cas wanted him to.

And _fuck_ , that always was his problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t communicate for shit and Cas hated that, hated when Dean would shy away from how he felt and lock it up tight. Of course it would be something fucking stupid like this that would be the end of them. If he had found these earlier, if he had known – but now it’s too late, Cas has been gone for so long and he’s probably moved on and forgotten and –

But what if he hasn’t? Dean thinks. What if it isn’t too late? They’re both dumb as shit and they’ve let way too much time pass but what if _it isn’t too late?_

Dean all but jumps up, Dog Sammy yelping in surprise and giving him an unamused look. _No wonder I called her Sammy,_ Dean thinks absently. And yeah, he should phone Human Sam, he should talk to _someone_ , but he’s wasted enough time already and this can’t wait, not now that he knows. He marches determinedly towards the sitting room, opening the top drawer in the side table and searching through the pile of old receipts and bills and junk. He know Cas left his new address here somewhere, in case Dean found anything of his and needed to send it over or some other practical shit like that. Or maybe it was for this exact situation, in case Dean needed to get to him as soon as possible.

He’s about to shove some things in a duffel bag and get straight into his car when he stops. As much as he wants to, he can’t just ditch work and go, Bobby said he’d kill him if he ever tried that one again. And it’ll be days before he gets to Cas and then he’d probably say something wrong or stupid in his rush to get everything out in the open. And what if Cas _doesn’t_ want him there? What if Dean shows up and somebody else answers Cas’ door, what if Cas has somebody else already? Besides, he has Dog Sammy to worry about, he can’t leave her here alone and he definitely can’t _take_ her.

Fuck.

He collapses onto the couch, still clutching the address in his hand as he tries to figure out what to do. He could call him, but it’s not right to do this over the phone.

And then it hits him – there’s only one way he can do this, only one way he can have the chance to say everything he needs to say without fucking up or being interrupted. He goes back to the junk drawer and fishes out a pad of paper and a pen, taking them to the desk that still sits in the bay window in the sitting room despite the fact that Cas was the only person who ever used it. Sammy is still following him around, wagging her tail like she knows something important is happening.

Dean settles at the desk and tries to clear his mind. He’ll never be as eloquent as Cas, won’t ever be able to write the perfect letter, so he figures the only way to go about it is just to wing it. He puts pen to paper and starts.

_Cas, you dumb shit,_ he starts.

_Fuck you. Fuck you for writing those stupid letters and fuck you for leaving me and fuck you most of all for not telling me you wanted me to go with you. Because I would have, Cas. I would be there with you right now if you’d just fucking asked._

_Fuck me, too, for not fucking telling you that._

_Yeah, I grew up here. This is my childhood and my family house and I love it, sure, but you’re my home, you idiot. There are fucking car shops all over the stupid world, Cas, and I could work in any of them._

_And, really, Cas? San Fran and you think I wouldn’t wanna go? You and Human Sammy live in the same fucking place and you think I wouldn’t wanna be there, too? You think I’d want something else more than I wanna be near the two of you? This house is just four walls without anyone else in it but you two are my family._

_Fuck this whole thing, Cas. Fuck these stupid months we’ve lost. And fuck all the stupid years we will lose if you don’t –_

_Do you still want me there? Do you still want_ me _?_

_I fucking love you, even if you are a little shit. If you ever thought I’d stop then you’re dumber than you look._

_So, hey, I know I just insulted you like six hundred times and I know it’s been a while and you’re probably happy somewhere with some Californian model that I’ll kill if I ever meet, but if there’s even a chance that you’re as miserable as I am then you should probably tell me so I can get my dumb ass and my stupid dog over to you asap, ok?_

_Ok. Good._

_God, I love you, Cas._

_Dean._

He doesn’t bother reading it back, doesn’t want to second guess or change his mind. He simply folds it up and stuffs it into an envelope to send when he takes Dog Sammy out.

 

 

The thing about Dean is that he’s impatient as shit. He half hopes Cas will call or text the second he gets the letter and put Dean out of his misery. He keeps his phone on loud and right next to him for days, even when here’s no chance the letter will have even arrived. Still, if he does get a reply in some form then he can’t afford to miss it.

He feels bad for being constantly on edge because it makes Sammy jumpy, too. He had called Human Sam that first night, told him he was sorry but he had to postpone their planned visit _just in case._ He tells him everything and he just knows Sam wants to be smug because _I told you you were both being idiots, Dean_ but he’s kind and actually helpful in calming Dean down and Dean has pretty much never loved his brother more. When Dean tells him how scared he is that Cas won’t respond at all, he can all but hear Sam’s eye-roll and he says _can’t wait for you to move here, jerk_ and hangs up.

And shit, surely Sam would know, right? Because he lies about it but Dean always could see right through him and he knows that Sam and Cas hang out sometimes. Dean knows they live close enough that regularly catch-ups are an option.

And Dean knows Cas, and he knows he’ll get a response. Even if its just to say _‘who are you again? and why are you contacting me?’_ he knows he’ll hear back. It’s just the _when_ that’s driving Dean crazy. Cas is a closet romantic and he’s a fucking writer so Dean is ready for the long and poetic letter he’s sure he’ll get back.

 

What he isn’t expecting is a knock at his door at eleven o clock at night. Him and Dog Sammy are just settling down to sleep so they can get up early for a walk before Dean has to head to work and he definitely hadn’t invited anyone round which can only mean one thing – someone is dead or hurt or in some serious trouble. Sammy is up and barking at the door in a second, Dean following behind her in his stupid sleep pants.

He pulls the door open, Sammy peering round nosily. She starts going crazy before Dean can even comprehend what’s happening, jumping and barking and leaping at their guest. Dean is just about to grab her and pull her back into the house with a stern word or two when the words die on his lips and all he can do is stare.

Because it’s _Cas_. Cas is right in front of him in jeans and an old sweater, no bags or anything with him. He’s got his face buried in the fur at Sammy’s neck, scratching at her as she wags her tail happily. When he looks up, Dean swears his heart stops for a second.

Cas looks at him, one hand still petting at Sammy’s head where she’s pushing her nose against Cas’ hip. Dean doesn’t really blame her, he kind of wants to desperately cling to Cas, too.

“So, hi,” Cas starts. “You should come to California with me now.”

Dean lets out a desperate noise, embarrassingly like a sob, and lurches forward. Cas is there to catch him, _of course he is_ , wrapping strong arms around Dean’s waist and clinging right back. Dean buries his face in Cas’ shoulder, breathing him in, pulling him closer. He’s vaguely aware of Dog Sammy circling them happily, the cold air biting at his bare toes, but none of it really matters any more because _Cas is here_.

He pulls away finally, staring at Cas, mouth opening and closing like a fucking idiot. Now that Cas is here, he doesn’t really know what to say. He gestures behind himself into the house and Cas nods, stepping in, Sammy still tailing him. Cas kneels down to hug her properly, telling her he’d missed her and how happy he is to see her and Dean is _melting_ , god damn it.

“Cas,” he says desperately, voice cracking, and then Cas is up again and crowding him back against the wall, pushing in close.

“Hello, Dean,” he says lowly, hands coming up to frame Dean’s face. He has Dean pinned, nosing at his jaw, pressing up against him. Dean is just trying to remember how to breathe.

“Can’t believe you’re here,” he says finally, hands gripping at Cas’ hips. “What are you – why are you here?”

“I kind of lost my mind,” Cas tells him, voice calm and steady. “I got the letter and next thing I knew I was at the airport. I didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”

“You can borrow some of mine,” Dean says, letting out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Hell, take ‘em all, man.”

Cas chuckles against his jaw, says “fuck, I missed you,” and doesn’t give Dean a chance to respond before he has his mouth on him.

The kiss is every bit as desperate as Dean would have expected it to be, all tongue and breathlessness and nails digging into whatever part of each other they can reach. It’s possessive and just the right side of painful and Dean doesn’t want to pull away, not ever, but he kind of does need to breathe at some point. Damn it.

 

When Dean finally gets back to bed, he has Cas tucked under his arm. Cas lets a still-excited Sammy lie across his chest, occasionally licking at Cas like she can’t quite believe he’s here. Dean knows the feeling.

“Missed you, Dog Sammy,” he’s saying in his baby voice. “Human Sammy is not as cute as you, no he’s not, he’s not.”

Dean snorts. “Human Sammy smells worse, too,” he says. “You, uh – you seen him often? Human Sam?”

Cas turns away from Sammy at last, turning his face to rest a cheek on Dean’s shoulder and look up at him. “Some. He didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t ask,” he admits. “Probably woulda just ended up hating him anyway.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Cas rolls his eyes.

Dean smiles at him. “Nah, maybe not,” he says, tipping his face down to kiss Cas’ head. “Still can’t believe you got on a plane, dude. You’re insane.”

“Figured we’d wasted enough time,” Cas shrugs, rolling over and crawling on top of Dean. Sammy makes an offended noise and leaps off the bed after being jostled off Cas’ chest. “Didn’t wanna wait for another stupid letter to make it across the country. Figured I’d be quicker.”

“Hope you got a single ticket,” Dean mutters. Cas’ face falls and suddenly he looks awkward, a little confused. Dean slides his hand into Cas’ hair, tugs at it slightly. “Because we’re driving back, you dumbass. No way I’m putting Dog Sammy on a fucking plane. And I have a lot of shit that I don’t trust any other driver with it.”

“Dean,” Cas beams. He looks like the fucking _sun_ and Dean can’t look away. “Are you sure about this?”

Dean snorts. “Shut up. How long do I have to pack?”

“Called work from the airport and spewed some shit about a family emergency. Got a week off. Take your time, though, you’ll need to be around here for a while.”

“Doesn’t matter. Can deal with a few more weeks of us in different places if I know there’s an end to it.”

“Finally,” Cas whispers, leaning down to kiss him again. “We were pretty stupid, huh?”

“Speak for yourself,” Dean says, but they both know he doesn’t mean it.

Cas smiles for a second before he gets serious again, cupping Dean’s jaw. “I love you. _So much_ , Dean.”

Dean ducks his head, but there’s no hiding his smile from Cas. “Love you too, dork.”

“We should call Human Sam. He’ll be excited to have you nearby again.”

“Pretty sure he won’t be surprised. Told him about the letter I sent, he was pretty certain I’d be there, soon.”

Cas grins sheepishly. “I may have been talking to him about how to trick you into finding the letters?”

“Sneaky,” Dean says. “Can’t believe he never told me you still wanted this.”

“Don’t blame Sam. I made him promise. I was… I suppose I was reaching the end of my patience. I would’ve come back for you sooner or later, but it was nice to know you wanted that, too.”

“Always, Cas.”

“I’m here now,” Cas whispers. “Not going anywhere.”

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ waist. “Good,” he mutters, huffing a laugh into Cas’ hair. “Not ever again, ok?”

Cas smiles softly, leaning forward to press his mouth to Dean’s. “Deal,” he says, and he seals it with a kiss.


End file.
